


Preparation

by prepare4trouble



Series: Little By Little [12]
Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Accessibility Settings Are Not Accessible, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Blind Kanan Jarrus, Ezra decides to quit the conversation again, Gen, Uncomfortable Conversations, Visually Impaired Ezra Bridger, Zeb's secret waffle stash, completely justifiable this time though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-16
Packaged: 2018-09-24 11:30:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9722318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prepare4trouble/pseuds/prepare4trouble
Summary: Knowing that Sabine and Zeb are due back any day, Ezra and the others discuss the best way to break his news.





	1. Chapter 1

“Obviously I don’t want you to meet them right off the Phantom and tell them,” Hera said, leaning forward just slightly as she spoke, as though to impress the importance of the discussion upon him, “but you can’t wait too long. You understand that, right?”

Ezra perched on one of the stools at the near side of the holotable, elbows rested on the surface, staring across at Hera and Kanan who, either subconsciously or in a deliberate attempt to put up a united front, had sat together opposite him. He knew that wasn’t the intention, but it felt like an interrogation.

“Yeah, I understand that,” Ezra assured her.

Kanan nodded, apparently satisfied. “I’m thinking, let them settle back in for a while, file their reports, decompress, talk about the mission, take a shower, probably…”

Ezra smirked. “Yeah, get rid of that sulphur stench.”

Hera glanced sharply from Ezra to Kanan and back again, looking as though she wanted to say something, or ask something, but she remained silent.

“…then we’ll call a meeting.”

And then he would tell them, and then everything would change. Until then, he would be able to pretend, just for a few hours longer. He would be able to listen to their talk of the mission, waft a hand in front of his nose as though to dispel the odor that he would claim clung to them regardless of whether or not it was true; Sabine would probably attempt to hit him, and would definitely plan some kind of revenge art, Zeb would get probably make some kind of vague threat, or silently plan the opening gambit of the next prank war.

He probably wouldn't go through with it, whatever it was. Sabine probably wouldn’t make that art. If seemed almost cruel to act normal with them, then turn around hours later and admit that it had all been a lie.

Hera was looking at him, concerned. She had walked into the room with a slight limp from her fall, probably not noticeable to anybody other than himself, but very definitely there. “Unless you have a better suggestion?” she asked.

He shook his head slowly, then stopped. “Actually, yeah. I mean, sure, give them time to get the stench off of them, but can’t you tell them about the meeting right away? That way I can…” he shrugged. “I don’t want to have to pretend everything’s okay.”

He noted Kanan’s frown, and the way that Hera turned to look at him, to gauge his reaction. He knew what they were thinking; he had been doing exactly that for months, what difference did a few hours make? And they were right, but they were also completely wrong. Those particular few hours would make all the difference.

“I just… I don’t wanna lose my nerve,” he added.

Hera nodded. “If that’s what you want,” she said.

“It is.”

Actually, what he wanted was to forget about the whole thing and just continue on as normal, but that wasn’t an option; it had never been an option. The best thing he could do was keep the discomfort to as low a level as possible. It was the third time he was going to have to tell somebody. In theory at least, it should be getting easier.

He had a feeling that theory wasn’t going to pan out.

Hera reached down onto the seat beside her, and lifted a datapad. She switched it on, and scrolled through several pages. “I… finished the data file,” she said.

Ezra frowned, momentarily confused before he remembered the purpose of the interview she had conducted with him earlier in the week, trying to understand exactly what he could and could not see. Hera had spent much of the rest of that day and the following one locked away in her quarters when she wasn’t busy with her usual duties, working on this.

“I’m going to give one to Sabine and Zeb, and then to Sato, and anybody else that might need to know.” She looked up from the device to Ezra. “Assuming you’re still okay with that,” she added.

He shrugged. “Sure, I guess.”

Anything that would cut down the number of questions he had to answer had to be a good thing. The less he had to actually talk about it, the better. In fact, that data file might be able to compress the act of telling Sabine and Zeb into one vague sentence and the handing out of a data chip. _“So, I’ve got this thing, you can read all about it here. Okay, bye.”_

“What’s it say?” he asked.

He noted Kanan’s head turn in her direction too, in obvious interest. Hera looked from one to the other and sighed. She scrolled through to the first page. “It says quite a bit,” she said. “I’ve been trying to think of ways to compress the information, but I think it’s all important, so I decided to leave it. Even…” She grimaced, reading the page. “Actually, I might take that bit out.”

Ezra resisted the urge to reach for the datapad himself. “But what does it actually _say_?” he asked. Before anybody else read it, he wanted to know. Information about Sacul Syndrome was easy enough to come by, if you knew where to look. He wanted to know what she had written about _him_.

“The first few pages are an overview of Sacul Syndrome,” Hera told him. “I’ve lifted a lot of it from the data I could find already written,” she flicked through a few pages as she spoke, “so don’t think I actually _wrote_ this myself. The… early onset type, there is less information about that, so most of this is talking about the standard version, but what I could find about your type starts on page eight. Most of it’s just from what you’ve told me, or things Kanan and the med droid mentioned. There’s not going to be any surprises in it.”

She cleared her throat and flicked ahead a few more pages. “That’s here. So I’ve said it’s rare, I’ve talked about timescales, and how we’re not 100% certain yet how long…” She took a deep breath, “But probability, number of years, the progression, how long it’s going to be before you…”

Ezra gritted his teeth. She wasn’t actually telling him anything, and the fact that she could barely even bring herself to talk about it either _really_ wasn’t helping.

“…because eventually you’re still going to be able to see, technically, but it’s not…”

“Yeah,” Ezra said quietly. “I know.”

Wordlessly, Kanan got to his feet, crossed the room and returned with a glass of water, which he set down in front of Hera. She picked it up gratefully and took a sip. She had been obviously upset, probably still reeling from the news, when she had spoken to him to collect data for the file. She had appeared mostly recovered yesterday, when she had taken him on her well-meaning but ultimately disastrous tour of the ship.

He was having good days and bad days, he supposed she might be going through something similar. As, presumably, would Sabine, and possibly Zeb too, though he liked to think that Zeb would at least hide it better. He had to, Ezra shared a room with him, and he didn’t know if he could stand it if he had to deal with that… Which was probably a very selfish thought, but he didn’t much care at the moment.

Hera put her drink down on the table and nodded at Kanan. “Thanks.” She turned back to the datapad. “So, I’ve written a little about what you told me, what you find difficult, what you can’t…” she sighed. “It’s brief, because I know it’s going to change, but that’s what people are going want to know, so I’ve put in as much information as I could, and then questions, things people might ask…”

She still hadn’t actually told him anything. This was taking forever; a long, drawn-out, excruciating explanation of the information she had included, without actually sharing what any of that information might be. He reached out his hand. “Hera, I _can_ still read. For now.”

The words hung in the air as the whole room appeared to freeze, his imagination, he was sure. He glanced at Kanan, who didn’t have that option, and was left with no choice but to listen to Hera’s explanation of what she had written, or transfer it onto an audio-enabled datapad and sit and listen for, judging by the number of pages Hera appeared to have turned so far, hours.

He winced. “Sorry,” he muttered, and dropped his hand to the table guiltily. Hera responded by sliding the datapad in his direction. He hesitated before picking it up to skim the information. He didn’t need to read the whole thing, just get the gist of it, make sure there was nothing untrue in there, and more importantly, nothing that he didn’t want the others to know.

He blinked before he began the usual task of forcing his eyes to focus on the screen. He moved it away from his face, then slowly closer and closer until… nope. He blinked hard a few times and tried again, squinting noticeably, adjusting the relative position of the datapad. He couldn’t… He tried again, a vague sense of panic stirring somewhere within him as one by one, every one of his tricks failed; he couldn’t make himself able to read the font on the screen. He closed his left eye, the slightly worse one, and repeated it again with just the right. He could see that there _were_ words there. He could see that they were black against a white screen, there was no problem with the contrast or the brightness of the thing, he just couldn’t read it.

Well, that just proved the thing he had said to Hera wrong, didn’t it?

He glanced up, feeling heat rising to his face. Hera had clearly noticed that he was having difficulty, but didn’t know what to do; Kanan… he wasn’t sure. He looked mildly concerned, probably picking up on the strong sense of awkward floating around the room.

That was okay. He had been adjusting the font size on these things for months, he could still… he had still _been_ able to get by on the standard size until now, but it wasn’t a problem, he could just…

He pressed the button to load up the datapad’s settings, and hit another deflector shield in the form of the same font size in the settings. He frowned, still trying to force his stupid, uncooperative eyes to do him this one favor. They refused.

That was okay, he had done this before, dozens of times. He could remember where to find the thing he needed. Only, he couldn’t. If he had a few minutes to think; to try a few out and see what happened, that might be different, but he could practically feel both Hera and Kanan’s scrutiny, and it was making things so much worse.

He moved the pad closer and then further away from his face one last time in a desperate, pointless effort to see the screen, just a fraction of a second would have done it, but no.

He slumped in his seat. He couldn't do it for himself. He needed help.

This was it, the beginning of the end. It was only going to get worse from here on out, and there was nothing that he was going to be able to do, nothing but sit back and watch as the view from behind his eyes grew more and more indistinct. He resisted the urge to throw that datapad across the room, and instead placed it down on the table, slid it back in Hera’s direction and got to his feet. “I guess I’ll read it later,” he said, then turned and stalked out of the room.

* * *

He hesitated outside the room, not sure where to go, or what to do. He looked around and couldn’t see any noticeable difference in how the world around him looked; the corridor and bulkheads looked exactly the same as they had the day before, and the day before that.

That was what it would be like. The subtlety of it, creeping up on him so slowly that he didn’t notice; until something happened and he did. This was the first thing of many, the first major step along the road, the first thing that he wasn’t going to be able to hide. If he had to pull out a magnifier to adjust the font, that was going to be excruciating. But probably better than having to ask somebody else to do it for him.

Or maybe he would just give up on reading altogether. It wasn’t like he really _needed_ it, and in a few years the ability would be gone anyway, might as well start getting used to it now.

Whatever. On a whim, he turned in the direction of the exit, and just about made it off the ship before Kanan caught up to him. Lost in his own thoughts, the first he noticed that he wasn’t alone was Kanan’s hand on his shoulder.

He turned, brushing the hand away as he did. “I’m _fine_ ,” he said. The words came out strangled and angry.

Kanan took a step back, and Ezra noticed the datapad clutched in one hand. He held it out, offering it to him. Ezra hesitated, before accepting it and switching it on. The font had been adjusted to something that he could read, a little larger than he needed, actually.

He switched it off and tucked it underneath his arm. “Thanks,” he whispered.

“Hera did it,” Kanan told him, unnecessarily.

Ezra nodded and turned away.

“Take some time, but then come back,” Kanan told him. “There’s a few more things…”

“No.” Ezra shook his head and looked outward over the desert landscape of the planet. How long would it be before that, too, faded from view? “I’m done,” he added. “For now, anyway. I just want…” he paused, not knowing how to finish that sentence.

He just wanted not to have to do this. He wanted it not to be happening, and if that meant for it just to be over already, he would take it at this point. He would take sudden, permanent and irreversible blindness over being forced to watch it happen slowly. It was a horrible thought, and not one he could ever say out loud, but at least that way he would have some measure of control.

“I just want to be alone,” he said, instead. “You and Hera decide whatever you want, tell me about it later.”

For a moment, he thought Kanan was going to agree, until the older Jedi stepped around, placing himself in front of Ezra, blocking his escape. “We can finish talking about this later,” he said, “but you should be there. In the meantime, I’m not sure being alone is the best thing for you right now.”

Ezra frowned. “I said I’m fine, Kanan.”

Kanan looked unconvinced. “I know,” he said.

Ezra forced out a sigh and shook his head. “I just… it sounds ridiculous, but half the time I still don’t really believe this is happening, you know? Like I know it’s real, and I can _see_ it happening, but at the back of my head there’s still this certainty that it’s not really going to get to the point where…” he broke off and barked a sound that didn’t quite count as a laugh.

“Ezra…” Kanan began. He took a step closer, and Ezra moved further away. He could feel his eyes stinging now with unshed tears, and he couldn’t help but be glad that Kanan couldn’t see them. He turned away from him anyway, it felt like the right thing to do.

“And then something like this happens,” he continued. “And I think, that’s gone now. That’s something I’ll never be able to do again. And it’s going to be like that from now on, isn’t it? One thing after another, watching the world fade away a little bit each day, knowing that sooner or later it’ll all just be gone.”

Kanan’s hand touched his shoulder from behind and rested there, a gentle pressure, reminding him that he wasn’t alone. “It’s still there, Ezra,” he told him. “It’ll always be there, you just need to find another way to see it.”

Ezra shook his head and let out another not quite laugh. Kanan’s fingers gripped his shoulder a little tighter, and for a moment they stood in silence, Ezra looking out over the desert beyond the base, vision blurred further by the thin layer of unshed tears filling his eyes.

“I… found some places,” Kanan said, “on the planet, but away from the base. If you want, I can take you there.”

Still trembling, but curious, Ezra turned and looked at him searchingly. “What places?” he asked.

Kanan let his hand drop from Ezra’s shoulder again and folded his arms. “Hard to explain,” he said. “But they’re nice; peaceful. Places I go when I’m feeling down, and they remind me that there’s still beauty in the universe, and that you don’t have to be able to see to experience it.”

That sounded… he didn’t know how that sounded. “Okay?” he said, phrasing it as a question.

“It’s not really something I can explain. There’s this one place, a couple miles outside of the base, where there’s a stream. Only a small one, obviously, but it turns out not all the water here is underground. And as it runs over the rocks it makes this sound…” He stopped and shrugged. “One stipulation though; no looking.”

Ezra frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I can’t show you that you don’t need to see to enjoy the world while you’re looking at it, it just wouldn't work. We do this, you need to promise to keep your eyes closed.”

“No.” The response was out of his mouth before he was even able to think about it. He felt himself blush. “Sorry. I just mean…”

Kanan shook his head. “I know. I didn’t really expect you to say yes yet. But just know the offer’s there, whenever you’re ready, just say the word.”

Ezra took a deep breath and held it. Would it really be so bad? It might be good for him to… hadn’t he just moments before been thinking about what it might be like to lose his vision fast, rather than watch it fade? He didn’t want that, not really. Of course he didn’t, and he was going to hold on tight to every single sight, treasure and cherish them, and use them up, until they were gone. But that didn’t mean he couldn't start to experience a different kind of beauty. One day, it would be all he had.

But not today.

“Let’s take a walk then,” Kanan said. “Just a normal walk. There’s some things we need to talk about.”

Without waiting for a response, he took off at a quick stroll, heading in the direction of the perimeter. Ezra hesitated, glancing back at the open door to the Ghost, then at Kanan’s rapidly retreating form. He made a decision, and jogged a few steps to catch up with his master, shoving the datapad into his pocket to read later. “Won’t Hera be wondering where we are?” he asked. 

Kanan shrugged. “She’ll give us a couple of minutes, then give up and get back to work. She’s used to you disappearing on her by now.”

Their feet crunched slightly on the ground as they walked out into the wilderness, Ezra staying close to Kanan, knowing that his lack of a perimeter beacon was dangerous. Out in the distance, he thought he could make out the shape of the giant spiders moving on the horizon. He shuddered at the thought of them. Two of the tiny dokma crawled purposefully in the opposite direction, but aside from that the world was still and quiet.

“So,” Kanan said after a few minutes, when Chopper Base was a smear in the distance. “Tell me about yesterday. You and Hera, did it help?”

Ezra continued to walk in silence, listening to the sound of his footstep on the arid ground. “There’s nothing to tell,” he said after a while. It had been okay, and for a moment he had almost thought that it was going to be useful, and then it had gone wrong. “She showed me the bumps in the wall,” he added.

Kanan nodded, then as though sensing that that topic wasn’t one that Ezra wanted to discuss, fell back into silence. The sun was high in the sky and the spiders were thankfully far away. The weight of the datapad in his pocket was something that was impossible to block out completely, but he could ignore it for now. Anyway, when things got bad, there was still the audio function that Kanan used on occasion, and Kanan was able to switch that on and off himself using some kind of on-screen gesture.

He added that to his mental list of things that he was going to need to know about one day.

But there were better things to talk about right now, things that didn’t make his heart hurt, even things that felt good. He had had a whole day like that not so long ago, not one completely without setbacks, but one in which for some reason, despite everything, he had been sure that he could cope. It had started with an accidental discovery. “I found Zeb’s waffles,” he said.

Kanan actually stopped walking. He turned to face Ezra as though he could search his face for evidence as to whether or not he was telling the truth. “Zeb’s secret stash?” he said.

Ezra grinned. “Two whole boxes of the things.”

Kanan shook his head in apparent disbelief. “Zeb’s secret stash,” he repeated. “Honestly, I thought it was a myth.”

Ezra laughed. “Me too. Especially after I spent half a day looking for it last week, and found nothing. Then I stumbled upon it by accident.”

“You know,” Kanan told him, a smile spreading slowly across his face. “I like waffles.”

He shook his head. “Nuh-uh. They’re in sealed boxes, as soon as I take one, he’s going to know about it. This is a one-time only deal, then he’s going to move them. So I need to choose the perfect moment.”

Kanan thought about it, and nodded. “Or,” he suggested, “alternative suggestion? Take them all, hide them somewhere else, they become our secret waffle stash, and deny all knowledge if he ever brings it up. Which he won’t, because that would mean admitting the stash exists.”

Ezra laughed. It was perfect, equal parts hilarious and mean. The perfect prank, and as a bonus, he would get waffles. “How did I not know until now that you were an evil genius?” he asked. There was only one problem. “But Zeb would still know, and he’d get his own back somehow.”

Kanan nodded. “Might be worth it.”

He would think that. He didn’t have to share a room with Zeb. “How about this,” Ezra countered. “They stay where they are for now, but when the perfect time does come along, I’ll make sure I share.”

“Hmm,” Kanan made a show of considering the proposal, then nodded. “Deal,” he agreed, and thrust out a hand. Ezra hesitated, momentarily confused, them shook the hand with a small smile.

They walked on in silence, no particular destination in mind, at least none that Ezra was aware of. Once they were a good distance from the base, they turned to the left and looped around, walking a lazy ring around the perimeter. The spiders didn’t bother them, and somehow, every step he took left Ezra feeling a little… not better, but less bad.

They came to a stop under the shade of a large rock formation and sat on the ground for a moment. Ezra stretched out his legs and rested back against the jutting rocks. “So, when I… we tell Sabine and Zeb. You or Hera will be the one to tell them there’s a meeting or something, right?”

Kanan turned to him, surprised. “I… yes, one of us will meet them off the Phantom, if we can. Or get to them as soon after as possible.”

Ezra nodded, satisfied. As long as he didn’t have to do that part himself. “Then, I guess I’ll be hiding out somewhere,” he said. “Not in my room, because Zeb’s gonna go there right after, but somewhere. You’ll call me on the comms when it’s time?”

“We should really have this discussion when Hera’s around,” Kanan told him.

Ezra nodded. He knew that, but that hadn’t worked out so well the first time, and it wasn’t Hera’s fault, it was just easier to do this on his own terms, feeling in control of when and how to talk about it; by the time he got back to the base, the unexpected wave of not-quite-positivity might have dissipated and he wouldn’t want to think about it again. “Let’s just do it now,” he said. “Then you, or both of us, can tell Hera what we decided when we get back, okay?”

Kanan considered it, then nodded. “I’m not sure how Hera will feel about that, but okay,” he agreed. He shifted on the dirt, finding a comfortable position. “So, tell me what you were thinking,” he said.

Ezra ran a hand over the rough ground, watching his fingers leave patterns in the dust. “I’m thinking I’m not going to want to stick around afterward,” he said. He would stay to tell them, but he didn’t intend to hang out for the after-party, share the hugs and see the tears and answer a million questions. And that extended into the rest of the day too, and the night that followed.

Kanan nodded. He had noted Ezra’s tendency to leave when a situation became too difficult, he probably agreed that it was better to have that planned in advance.

“The thing is,” Ezra added. He cleared his throat. “I have to share a room with Zeb, and, well…” He left it at that. Kanan would understand.

Kanan took a slow breath, sitting very still on the ground. “Yes you do,” he said carefully. “And you’re going to have to continue to do so. You’re right, it’s probably going to feel awkward at first, but that’s not going to be made any better by putting it off.”

Ezra tried to imagine the mood in the room that first night. Their ongoing argument about the overnight light level would probably be permanently ended, but it would be replaced instead by… what? Awkward silence? Questions that he didn’t want to answer?

Kanan was probably right; putting it off wouldn’t help. Maybe if he got into the room early, got into bed and pretended to be asleep before Zeb even made it back? He could wake early, when Zeb was still sleeping, and make himself scarce.

“One night,” Kanan said.

Ezra looked at him in surprise and confusion.

“The day you tell them,” Kanan clarified. “I have a spare bunk, you can take that. But you need to go back the next day, or it’ll get more and more difficult to do.”

Ezra felt himself relax, releasing tension that he hadn't even realized he was holding. “Thanks,” he said.

Kanan got to his feet and dusted himself down, patting off some of the dirt that clung to his clothing from the dry ground. “Come on,” he said, “we should be heading back. We can talk more on the way.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ezra knew what was happening as soon as he heard the rushed footsteps in the corridor outside. He paused with the half-finished sandwich partway to his lips, then lowered it back to his plate. He was done eating for now. Probably for the rest of the day.
> 
> Hera’s gaze centered on him as soon as she walked into the room; her eyes appeared a little wider than usual, and her complexion was flushed, whether with the hurried rush to reach him, or nervous anticipation of what was to come, he couldn't be sure. “You weren’t in your room,” was the first thing she said.
> 
> That was true. Ezra waited. He didn’t reply; he couldn’t.
> 
> “We’ve received a communication from Sabine and Zeb; they’re heading back now, and they’re about three hours out.”
> 
> Oh. He had known that was what she had come to say, but he realized now how desperately he had been hoping that he was mistaken. He wasn’t ready. He had thought he was ready, but it turned out he had been wrong.

Ezra knew what was happening as soon as he heard the rushed footsteps in the corridor outside. He paused with the half-finished sandwich partway to his lips, then lowered it back to his plate. He was done eating for now. Probably for the rest of the day.

Hera’s gaze centered on him as soon as she walked into the room; her eyes appeared a little wider than usual, and her complexion was flushed, whether with the hurried rush to reach him, or nervous anticipation of what was to come, he couldn't be sure. “You weren’t in your room,” was the first thing she said.

That was true. Ezra waited. He didn’t reply; he couldn’t.

“We’ve received a communication from Sabine and Zeb; they’re heading back now, and they’re about three hours out.”

Oh. He had known that was what she had come to say, but he realized now how desperately he had been hoping that he was mistaken. He wasn’t ready. He had thought he was ready, but it turned out he had been wrong.

He took a deep breath, pushed his half-full plate away, and got slowly to his feet. His legs felt wrong, like they weren’t quite able to support his weight. He ignored it, licked his lips and forced himself to swallow. His mouth suddenly felt too dry. “Okay,” he said simply. “Thanks.”

It was always going to be today. He had known it since the moment he had woken up. In fact, the certainty had been so strong that he had half expected that when he peered over the edge of his bunk and into the one below, he would find Zeb already there, sleeping off the exertions of the mission. Or worse, up and moving around the room, forcing Ezra to make small talk and act normal.

He should be feeling relieved. Things were happening according to the vague plan he had had in his head; the message had come through in plenty of time, giving him as much warning as he could reasonably expect, and it had come at a time when he was awake, giving him the opportunity to ensure that he wasn’t around when the Phantom landed. 

It was always going to be today. And there had never been any possibility of him being ready. If he had another month, he knew that he was still going to feel the same way.

“Kanan isn’t using his quarters, he said if you want to go there…” She tailed off as she noticed him shaking his head. He would go there, briefly, to drop off the few things that he would need for his planned stay that night, but he couldn’t stand to just sit there waiting. “Okay,” she told him. “Well, wherever you end up, keep your comm device with you, I’ll call you when it’s time.”

Ezra touched the device attached to his arm, feeling its familiar presence, and nodded.

Hera hesitated, then turned to leave.

He could still go to his room for now, for a couple of hours. Just as long as he was gone before they actually got back. He considered that possibility, and dismissed it. He wouldn’t be able to bring himself to do anything, and the thought of sitting there with nothing but his thoughts for company made him feel ill.

“Ezra, I…”

He looked up to see that without him noticing, Hera had turned back to face him again. Her expression was soft and sympathetic in a way that made him want to cringe. He couldn’t help but notice it was also a little difficult to make out; he felt as though he needed to take maybe half a step closer to see her properly. She didn’t continue whatever it was she had been about to say; instead, she hesitated by the door for just long enough that it started to feel awkward. Finally, when he thought he wasn’t going to be able to stand it any longer, she took a determined step forward, and another.

Before Ezra realized what was happening, Hera wrapped her arms tightly around him, pulling him in as close as she squeezed him tightly, as though she could somehow protect him from what was coming.

She didn’t say anything, didn’t assure him it would be okay, or offer any advice to get him through either the next few hours or the upcoming conversation. Instead she squeezed him a little tighter, held him for a little longer, then, before she let him go, whispered in his ear, “Three hours, I’ll radio you when it’s time.”

Ezra nodded, still caught in her embrace.

She retreated quickly, releasing him, turning and leaving the room in a matter of seconds. Ezra stared after her for several moments, unable to move until his body sprung into action almost against his will and he left the room, following her but not chasing after her. He found the corridor empty, to his relief, and turned to leave, still not sure where he planned to go.

* * *

“What do you think he’s doing?”

Kanan, seated at the opposite side of the desk in her quarters, didn’t bother to turn to face her. He worried the corner of a stack of paperwork with his thumb. “I don’t know,” he said. “He has a few places around the base that he likes to go to hide, he’s probably in one of those. Or maybe he’s found some work to do, or… I don’t know.”

Hera took a deep breath and sighed. She thought of Ezra, alone in some secret hiding place with nothing but his thoughts for company. She hoped Kanan was wrong about that. She checked the time, little more than a few minutes had passed since she had last checked. She sighed again.

Kanan reached across the desk and took her hand in his. He squeezed it lightly, and she felt the dry warmth of his skin against hers. “He’s going to be okay,” he told her.

He was right, of course. But that was in the long term. She didn’t know exactly what Kanan meant, whether Ezra would be okay, today, or tomorrow, or three years down the line. “You didn’t see him when I told him they were on the way,” she said.

Kanan’s lips twitched just slightly and she scowled.

“Not funny,” she told him. “He just looked so…” she hesitated, searching for the right word. “…alone,” she said.

Kanan’s grip on her hand tightened a little. “He’s going to be okay,” he repeated.

He was, but not yet. Not today. “I should have offered to do something with him,” Hera said. “To keep him company, give him something else to think about.”

“He would have said no,” Kanan promised her. “Trust me on this, he’ll have had some kind of a plan for how he was going to use these hours, and it won’t have involved hanging out with either of us.”

Still, she should have asked.

“He’s…” Kanan began.

Hera pulled her hand away. “If you tell me he’s going to be okay _one more time_ , I’m honestly going to hit you.”

Kanan smiled indulgently and shook his head. “He’s not on his own,” he clarified. “I’m not sure where he is, but he’s with other people. He’s fine.”

The tension that she had been carrying around since she had taken that call dissipated slightly and she frowned. “Good. Sorry. I wasn’t really going to hit you.”

He smiled. “I know. You’d have missed.”

She shrugged. She didn’t doubt that he would have been able to dodge, she did wonder whether he would have bothered. “So,” she said. “What shall _we_ do?”

* * *

“I’m not saying it’s _fixed_ , exactly. It’s just…” The pilot shrugged and spread his hands widely, palms facing outward and an exaggerated look of uncertainty on his face. “That paint they use, it’s water based, that’s all I’m saying.”

Ezra planted his hands in his pockets and looked to the other pilot, Hobbie.

“I think you’re paranoid,” Hobbie said. “You just can’t stand the fact that you’ve lost the last couple of nights and you’re trying to work out who to blame.” He turned to look at Ezra. “What do you think?”

“Uh…” Ezra shrugged and shook his head. They were talking about the dokma races, and how easy it was to tell the previous champion from the other competitors the next night. “I guess… they _could_ be washing the paint off and swapping the colors around,” he said.

“Ha! See?!” the first pilot exclaimed, fixing a victorious look in Hobbie’s direction. “They change them around so the one that looks like the champion from the night before loses and they collect all the winnings.”

Ezra shook his head. “I said _could_ ,” he said. “Maybe. But have you ever touched one of those shells? They’re pretty rough, I don’t know how easy it’d be to wash the paint off of there without leaving some behind.” He thought about it. “Actually, you should probably ask Sabine about that,” he said. “You know, if you _really_ want to know. And if you don’t mind a half hour lecture on different kinds of paint and what’s good for what.”

“Or you could ask one of the mechanics,” Hobbie suggested.

“Those guys take care of our ships,” the other man reminded him. “Call me crazy, but I don’t really want to upset them.”

“Not crazy,” Hobbie corrected. “Like I said, paranoid.”

Ezra grinned at the slightly older man’s irritation and tried not to think that this might be the last time he did this for a while; just hung out with people without it being awkward. It wasn’t like the news was going to be everywhere today; he was telling Sabine and Zeb, that was it. Tomorrow, Hera was going to have a discussion with Sato, Kanan was going to tell Rex. None of those people were going to go out and start gossiping about him. It still felt like a lot all at once, like the exclusive club of people in the know was about to expand exponentially, and once that process began, it wouldn’t be so long before he had to start telling other people.

Once it was out there, things would get back to normal eventually, he knew that, but there would be that long period in between, where everything felt tainted. He wasn’t looking forward to that beginning.

“What?” Hobbie asked.

It took Ezra a moment to realize that he was talking to him. He turned to look at him. “What what?” he replied.

Hobbie shrugged. “You okay?” he asked. 

“Sure. Why wouldn’t I be?”

The pilot shook his head. “No reason.” He turned back to his friend. “Anyway, the dokma get swapped every few days anyway, and when that happens you just have to pick one at random anyway.”

“Plus, they’re not exactly predictable,” Ezra added, “it’s not like they even know they’re supposed to be racing, when one wins, it’s only because it happened to wander in the right direction.”

The pilot sighed deeply and slumped against the side of his ship. “I guess,” he said. “I still think there’s some kind of a scam going on, the mechanics win far too often for it to be a coincidence.”

“Well, yeah,” Hobbie told him, “anybody’d think you never gambled before, you know the house always wins, right? What are you going to do, go tell on them to Captain Syndullla?” He laughed.

The other man scowled and turned away. “Guess not. I’ll see you later.”

Hobbie turned to Ezra and chuckled. “Good one about getting Sabine to give him a lecture,” he said. “She probably would do, too.”

“Make that definitely,” Ezra amended. “Seriously, don’t ask her about anything art related unless you _really_ want to know the answer.”

Hobbie grinned. “Noted,” he said. “So, will you be there for the races tonight?”

Ezra hesitated. He didn’t want to think about tonight. By that time, Sabine would know. Zeb would know. He folded his arms. Maybe he could be there. It would give him something to do, and the others rarely attended the races, so the chances of awkwardness was pretty low.

He probably wasn’t going to feel like it. But then, he wasn’t sure how he was going to feel. “Probably not,” he said.

“No? How come?” Hobbie stared at him, clearly curious, and Ezra felt himself shift awkwardly.

“Well, Sabine and Zeb are coming back today, they… You know what they’re like after a mission, they’ll want to… talk. About it. About the mission, I mean.”

Hobbie frowned and Ezra was certain he saw right through him. “Yeah, I figured you meant the mission. What else would they want to talk about?”

Ezra laughed, and surprised himself by how natural it sounded. “Sorry, distracted. But yeah, if they finish with the stories in time, I’ll come by. If not…”

“If not, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Only, would he? Would he be in the mood for the races then either? He grinned regardless; he was well practiced at that particular pretense “Yeah, I’ve lost the last three nights, I’m due a win any time now.”

Hobbie laughed. “Well, the mechanics, they wash the dokma every night just to trick you into betting on the wrong one, you know.”

Ezra grinned and shook his head.

“Well,” Hobbie told him, “Better get back to it.”

Ezra nodded. “Yeah, I guess so. I’ll s… I’ll see you later.”

* * *

“So,” Hera said. She turned and walked back across the center of the room, passing directly behind where Kanan was seated. “The lounge is the obvious place to tell them, there’s room for everyone to sit, so at least they’ll all be comfortable.” It wasn’t the most important consideration, it wasn’t like physical comfort was going to be anybody’s primary concern at the time, but it was still something to consider. More importantly, it was something to focus on, because her brain certainly wasn’t going to let her think about work right now

She reached the wall, turned, and walked back again, brushing the back of Kanan’s chair as she did. “You might as well go straight there,” she added. “When they arrive, I mean. That way if one or both of them decide to go straight to the meeting without heading to their quarters first, they’ll find you there already.”

Kanan turned around to face her. She continued to pace, noting the way he almost, but not quite, tracked her movements, turning his head as though following her with his eyes.

“I’ll meet them directly off the Phantom if I can,” she continued. “They should send a communication before they come in to land, so I just need to make sure I receive it and get to the designated landing spot before they exit the ship. Shouldn’t be too hard.” Barring unforeseen complications, that was, but generally speaking there was no reason she wouldn’t be able to get there in time.

She stopped when she reached the wall, turned again, and walked back. “If I miss them for whatever reason, they’re going to come looking for me anyway, so it shouldn’t be a major problem. Then as soon as I see them, I’ll tell them there’s a meeting. They’re going to ask why, of course… I’ll have to tell them I can’t say, which they’re going to find strange..."

Kanan took a deep breath before he finally spoke. He pressed to stop the audio playing on his datapad. “You’re overthinking this,” he told her.

“I’ll try to get a feel for how long they’re going to need to get themselves ready, then tell them what time to meet. What do you think, ten minutes? Twenty? I don’t want to leave Ezra waiting too long.”

Kanan pulled out the earpiece that he used to listen to audio, and placed it in his pocket. “Tell them to get there when they’re ready,” he said. “I’d tell Ezra it’s happening right away, they’ll probably go drop their stuff off first, maybe get changed or something, then head right there, Ezra will drag his feet and dawdle, and they’ll probably end up arriving around the same time.”

Hera thought about it. “ _Should_ they arrive at the same time?” she asked. “Or would it be better if Ezra was already there when they arrived. Or if he came in last?” She paced across the room again.

“It won’t make any difference,” Kanan told her.

Hera frowned.

“Seriously, it won’t, Hera. You need to sit down, relax, and stop trying to control everything.”

“I’m not trying to control…” she stopped, because actually, yes she was. Well, not control per se, but understand how things were going to go, so that she had a plan in place if things started to go wrong. “Fine, okay. But I don’t see you or Ezra planning things out, someone’s got to do it.”

Kanan shook his head. Still seated, he turned around to face her again. “No,” he said. “They don’t.”

Hera slowed her pacing to a stop, then walked around to the other side of the desk, placing her hands on her hips and looking at him expectantly. “Okay?” she said expectantly, waiting for an explanation.

The chair opposite him, on the other side of the desk, pulled out a little, inviting her to sit. She thought for a moment that he had moved it using the Force, until she noticed his foot moving, disappearing back underneath the desk. “What’s the worst thing that could happen today?” he asked.

Hera hesitated before sitting down. “I don’t really want to think about that.”

“Well, just think about it anyway. Is anything that happens today going to make the situation worse? Is it going to make Ezra go blind any faster?”

She felt herself flinch at the word in a way that she hadn’t for months. She forced herself to stay still, to actually think about that. “No,” she said. “Of course not.”

“Then nothing you do is going to change what’s happening, which means that organizing the perfect time to have everyone meet and trying to control who walks into the room first isn’t going to make the news any easier to hear, it’s just going to make things more difficult for you.”

“I don’t care about me; I’m trying to make things easier for Ezra.”

Kanan nodded. “I know. But — and you can hit me if you like — Ezra really _is_ going to be okay. And I don’t just mean in the long term. He knows what he’s doing, this will be helpful,” he indicated the datapad on the desk in front of him, where he had been listening to the file she had created, “and all he really needs from us is for us to be there with him, and not to make it into a bigger deal than it already is. Who walks into the room first doesn’t matter, and even if it did, you wouldn’t be able to script it, so you might as well let it happen.”

Hera rested her head in her hands and sighed deeply. “I know,” she said. “I just need to feel like I’m doing _something_ to help.”

“You are,” Kanan assured her.

She wished she could believe that. She sucked in a deep breath, feeling her chest expanding as it filled with air; she counted as she breathed in, and again as she exhaled slowly, through pursed lips.

Kanan touched her lightly on the arm and she looked up to see the concern on his face. “You are helping,” he repeated. “But you’ve done everything you can. Now you’ve just got to sit back and hand it over to Ezra, and if he needs our help, we’ll be there for him. Okay?”

Hera sighed shakily and nodded. The truth was, she knew this already, but that didn’t mean it was going to be an easy thing for her to do.

* * *

“Hey, you.”

Ezra didn’t exactly ignore the voice, he just barely noticed it; it faded into the background as he walked by, lost in his own thoughts.

“Hey, you. Moody Jedi kid.”

He noticed that one. He stopped and spun around searching for the speaker. He found her at the top of a ladder, near to an open exterior panel on a battered-looking fighter ship. She stared down at him. He looked up. “Me?”

He couldn’t make out her expression from that distance, but _she_ sounded like the moody one. “Yes, you. You see any other Jedi kids around here?”

Despite himself, Ezra looked around, confirmed that the area was free of crowds of Padawans, and shook his head. “Not right now,” he said.

“Well then, I must’ve been talking to you,” the woman said.

Ezra folded his arms and squinted slightly as he stared up at her. She was human, older than average for the base, maybe in her late forties or early fifties, her dark hair was graying slightly at the roots, and she wore the dirt-stained jumpsuit that had become the unofficial mechanics’ uniform.

“Pass me that plasma welder,” she said. She indicated the ground below the ladder with a wave of her hand. Her other hand was inside the panel, possibly holding something in place. Probably whatever it was that she wanted to weld.

Ezra glanced at the tools on the ground by the base of the ladder, stepping a little closer to check which one she actually needed. He looked back up at her; her hand was still stretched downward, her fingers making some kind of impatient, gripping or beckoning motion in the air.

She was kind of rude. He could probably be forgiven for walking away and letting her climb down the ladder to collect her own tools. On the other hand, maybe she was having a bad day, he had certainly had his share of those recently, and he knew that they didn't exactly leave him eager to be polite and thoughtful to other people. He sighed, picked up the welder and tossed it in her direction.

It was a good throw, and an easy catch for her. She glared down at him. “Throwing it?” she said. “Really? This is delicate equipment.”

Ezra frowned. She had expected him to lift it to her using the Force. It was a reasonable expectation, he supposed, but it wasn’t like he couldn't have used the Force to catch the welder if she had missed. She hadn’t thanked him, he noticed.

Feeling vaguely annoyed, he turned to leave.

“Hey!” She clicked her fingers. “Wait there a minute, I might need something else.”

Ezra shook his head; there was letting a few things go, and there was letting someone walk all over him. He opened his mouth to say something he was probably going to regret, when his wrist comm came to life. Hera’s voice. “Ezra? They're back.”

He glanced up at the woman on the ladder, then back at his comm. “Uh, sorry,” he said, waving his wrist in her direction as though she was going to know what that meant. “More important stuff to do.”

He turned and fled, half relieved to have an excuse to get away despite what that excuse was.

It wasn’t until he turned the final corner and saw the Phantom landed on the ground not far from the Ghost that he realized he was shaking.

**Author's Note:**

> Comments are loved.


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